


There Are No Friends, Within This Hell We Live In..

by Ragtime-Doll (TheMysteryWriter)



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: BATIM, Character Death, Coldhearted!Sammy, I still don't know how to tag properly, Norman is more aware than Sammy gives him credit for, SAMMY'S A MURDERER, Sammy's a jerk, Wounded!Projectionist, just more angst, or maybe Sammy's being merciful depending on how you look at it..?, sad feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMysteryWriter/pseuds/Ragtime-Doll
Summary: The Projectionist has a fight with the ink demon.It doesn't go very well.Sammy finds him.That also doesn't go very well.





	There Are No Friends, Within This Hell We Live In..

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, yes, hi, it's me again. Yer boi-(cept I'm a girl)- Ragtime. I wrote this drabble a little while back before Chapter 5 came out, but forgot to post it. Hold onto your hats, it's got some feels. (Depending on if you're a fan of the Projectionist or not) Can you tell I like writing angst?
> 
> Apologizes if there are any errors- I haven't really proofread this thoroughly.
> 
> Also, here's the theme for the story to if you want to play it while you read along: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=giJ5MXksxvw
> 
> k, enjoy! Imma go write some more stuff now.

\--

The Projectionist's reel light flickered and shone weakly across the floorboards of the room as he moaned heavily in pain and dragged his hand towards his chest, struggling to lift himself with aching arms from the ground he was lying upon. Before he could however, a heavy pressure came down on the back of his head, forcing him back into the ink pooling beneath him.

Standing over him loomed the silent figure of Sammy Lawrence, an ink stained ax in hand, with his maliciously grinning Bendy mask staring down at him like a reaper. His foot was pressed firmly down on the side of his head, preventing him from getting back up.

After a moment of watching the Projectionist struggle against him, letting out a broken, stuttering screech that vibrated from the speaker on his chest when he couldn't raise himself up, a sigh escaped Sammy's lips. 

_"So.. it seems even you're not invulnerable, are you?"_ He hummed in a low and melodic tone, taking in the sight of the creature's broken body, where his lower half had been savagely ripped and torn apart from his upper by powerful hands whom Sammy could only presume belonged to the ink demon. Pooling ink flooded the area around him, spilling freely from his agape torso, and every movement only seemed to aggravate this and the creature's pain. It was amazing he was still alive in the state he was in.

Under normal circumstances, Sammy knew better than to dare approach this beast. For his lanky appearance, the Projectionist was, by far, stronger than the prophet was in any regard, and he did not register anyone as his friend. Being one of the first to fall prey to Joey's twisted ideas, his brain had become too warped by the rituals, too corrupted by the ink to even remember his own name or how to speak. He was just a mindless killer now, attacking anything that moved until it moved no longer.

But now.. the tables had turned. Sammy had heard it. The fight from several floors above where he was, crashing and echoing through the studio like WWII. When it had gone silent, he went to investigate out of curiosity..

He shouldn't be surprised that this was the outcome..

"Figures.. in the end, even you couldn't stand against the ink demon's might.." Sammy bowed his head and clicked his tongue, making a mental check that he had indeed chosen to follow the right creature, before he lifted the ax to rest it on his shoulder. "Such a shame.. But, I suppose you DID have this coming.."

A broken crackle emanated from The Projectionist's speaker in what Sammy could only assume was an attempt at a plea for help as his head sparked from a damaged cable. Sammy simply pressed his foot down harder, causing the noise to grow more violent, desperate, like it were wheezing for air, and it clawed at the ground weakly as it's lens flickered more rapidly. Wild static nearly drowned out the sound of his struggles, then through the noise, the faintest form of a word could be heard.

_"Ssssss...ssssss...Sa....aa...am..."_

"Don't take this personally, Norman.." Sammy interrupted in a ominously cold voice, raising the ax over his shoulder with a shrug. "It's just life down here."

The creature screeched and curled in on itself as the hit connected, sputtering and crackling in pain. Two more strikes finally shut him up though, and the sound and light cut off abruptly, like a record that had been interrupted mid-song. The Projectionist seized up and dropped back to the floor like a stone before going still, his reel sputtering and whirring for a few more seconds before it fizzled and died out. 

Then the world was plunged into silence once more.

Sammy removed his foot after a moment and stepped back, panting from the effort as he silently gazed upon the now lifeless and unmoving corpse of what had once been one of the most feared creatures in the studio.

_"To hell, we all return.."_ He then murmured rather cryptically to himself, before he turned and walked away, dragging the ax behind him and leaving an inky trail in his wake.


End file.
